


Maybe the Darkness isn't Such a Bad Place to Be

by lolaweiss



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Harry, Manipulative Dumbledore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:44:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7350097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolaweiss/pseuds/lolaweiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry James Potter was no ordinary boy. At the age of 10, Harry was already doing year 10 work at school, but he would never tell the Dursley's that. Harry did not have a particularly pleasant life living with his Aunt and Uncle, they beat him and called him worthless. If that was true why was he able to do things that no one could? Why was he so smart? Most importantly, why did an owl just drop off a letter that specified where he slept?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You’re a wizard, Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Harry is dark in this story, he is not good at all. He's probably going to join Voldemort at some point and there may be a harry/voldemort paring or maybe harry/draco I haven't decided yet.
> 
> I don't have a beta so everything is edited by me, enjoy!

Harry James Potter was no ordinary boy, even he knew that. By the age of 3 he could speak fluently and read most children's books, by the age of 5 he had taught himself how to speak 4 different languages, had already read hundreds of books, and could do year 5 class work. Now, at the age of 10, Harry was already doing secondary school work, but he would never tell the _Dursley's_ that. In fact, he had begged his teachers at school to keep him in the year he was supposed to be in, and simply give him secondary school work to do.

 

Harry had learned early on, from the time he was 4 and the Dursley's tore up his library books because he could read words their precious Dudley could not, that revealing his intellectual level could only bring trouble for him, so, except for a few teachers, nobody knew how smart he really was.

 

Harry did not have a particularly pleasant life living with his Aunt and Uncle. Petunia and Vernon Dursley absolutely hated him, for what reason he did not know, when he was younger he spent hours crying and wondering just what he had done wrong that had made these people, his _family_ hate him so much. They locked him in a small boot cupboard under the stairs for most of his life, they made him cook and clean for them, they left him behind in his cupboard when they went out every Sunday, actually he was quite glad for their Sunday outings. It was the only time he was able to sneak out and go to the library to read for a couple of hours. He had learned not to bring books home, or if he did, to hide them under his small mattress.

 

As for how Harry got out of his locked room, well, that he didn't have an explanation for. The first time it happened it had been a complete accident, he just _really_ wanted the door unlocked so he could sneak out and go for a walk when suddenly, the door opened! At first Harry thought it was his uncle at the door, back to yell at him for some unseemly reason, but after waiting for 5 minutes with no sound coming from outside the closet, Harry realized it had opened by itself. It was crazy to think that _he_ had done it, at first  he thought the door had somehow opened by itself, maybe uncle Vernon forgot to lock it, but he was able to do it again, and again and again.

 

Also, one time, his uncle was yelling at him for burning his bacon, which was what usually happened if Harry happened to burn something, and his uncle had called him weak and worthless, and Harry had gotten so very mad, he wished his uncle were dead, and as he wished that a knife that was sitting on the counter flew up and stabbed his uncle right in the leg. His Aunt and Uncle were convinced it was just the wind that did it and they would not accept another answer. Of course this didn't stop his uncle from throwing him in his cupboard for a week with no food. After his uncle came back from the hospital with his stitches, he kicked Harry so much that his stitches ripped sending him right back to the hospital.

 

Perhaps it was all these strange things that made his _family_ hate him so much. Anyhow now that he had grown some he did not worry about such trivial things as _love_ from his supposed _family._ No, Harry had spent the last year working on these odd powers and trying to strengthen them, now he could unlock any door with barely a thought. He laid outside most nights after the Dursley's had gone to bed, and tonight was no different.

 

"Well" he sighed to himself, "I guess you're almost 11 now." He glanced down at the watch he had stolen from the ‘room of broken and forgotten toys’ (Dudley's old things.) The time was 11:57pm, in just 3 minutes he would be 11 years old. he was sure the Dursley's wouldn’t even remember.

 

At exactly midnight he heard a soft hoot, he looked up and saw an owl flying towards him, how peculiar, owls were not often seen in Surry, and the owl looked to be flying towards Harry, but, surely that couldn't be right, why would an owl come to him? The owl landed right in front of him and there was, what appeared to be a note tied to its leg, which the small creature was waving enthusiastically at Harry.

 

"I guess this is for me then?" He wondered aloud, "kind of like a carrier pigeon."

 

Harry took the letter and looked at it, it was a addressed to _Mr. H. Potter, The Cupboard under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey._ The Cupboard under the stairs? Whoever had sent him this letter knew where he slept. That was a bit unnerving to say the least, with trepidation Harry opened the letter and began to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this story all planned out but don't expect regular updates because I'm a terribly unmotivated person. Please leave kudos and comments!


	2. How did they know about the cupboard under the stairs?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diagon alley was an amazing place, he could practically feel the magic buzzing through the air, witches and wizards roamed around, some holding wands and some using magic for things like shopping or carrying their bags, It was almost overwhelming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter! I'm not sure if I'll get the third one up this fast but I couldn't wait to post this one!

A wizard? A _wizard?_ Harry was a bloody WIZARD?? Was this some kind of sick joke? He supposed the things he was able to do made more sense now, he was doing _magic,_ that was a crazy thought. How could Harry be a wizard and not even know it? How could he get accepted to a wizarding school despite his family being non-magical?

 

Harry was skeptical, who were these people that knew where he slept? These apparently magic people who knew that he was being kept in a boot cupboard, yet still expected him to be able to go to some fancy school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

 

This had to be some kind of a scam or something, sure him having magic would make sense given his abilities, but there was no way that a he would get sent a fancy letter accepting him to a school that he did not apply to.

 

The Dursleys wouldn’t have sent in an application for him, they hated him, and they tried so hard to pretend that the things that sometimes happened around Harry were all normal. They would never acknowledge that Harry was special or better than Dudley. Unless this school was actually horrible and beat the students, which Harry doubted.

 

* * *

 

Harry was still pondering the many thoughts swirling around in his head as he was making breakfast the next morning. He wasn't paying much attention, after all he had made bacon hundreds of times before, so when a loud knock came pounding on the front door Harry almost dropped the pan.

 

His uncle stood up and made his way to the door, grumbling about early risers come to annoy him. Harry heard the door open and his uncle's annoyed and rude voice call out, "what the bloody hell do you want?"

 

A male voice replied quite loudly, "why we're here to see Harry Potter!" Harry could not hear his uncle's response but he heard the front door close and footsteps come towards the kitchen.

 

His aunt and cousin had not moved from the dining room table, Dudley was too busy stuffing his face, and aunt Petunia looked like she was trying very hard to ignore the sudden guests.

 

“You people are some of his lot ain’t ya? You finally come to take him away?" Harry heard his uncle say as he opened the door to the kitchen.

 

Behind his uncle stood a man that was so tall he had to hunch over to fit through the door, he was big and had long curly, unkempt hair and a long beard that appeared to be in the same condition. His clothes were obviously old and warn. Harry inwardly scowled, the man looked like he hadn't seen the inside of a shower in decades, and smelt like it too.

 

Beside the man was a woman, she was tall, though nowhere near as tall as the man, and had a proper look to her. She looked to be well past middle aged, but it seemed like she kept up appearances quite well, her hair was in a tight bun, and her clothes, which were rather odd looking robes, looked clean and freshly ironed.

 

"Hello, you must be Harry" she said politely, ignoring Harry's uncle in favor of holding out her hand to Harry.

 

"My name is Professor Mcgonagall, I am Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I assume you received my letter last night?"

 

Harry took her hand hesitantly, "yes ma'am" he said politely.

 

So these were the people who knew where he slept, did they also know how he had been treated all these years? How could they write 'cupboard under the stairs' and not be suspicious, but perhaps that was why they were here, to “save him.”

 

Professor McGonagall stepped back and smiled, "This here is Hagrid," she said gesturing to the tall man. "He and I have come to take you to Diagon alley, where you will collect your school things. Your parents left you a sizeable fortune before their passing so you do not need to worry about money."

 

A fortune? His parents had a fortune? And yet he had lived in hand me downs and rags his whole life.

 

"I'm sorry Professor, but how can my parents have had a fortune? My aunt and uncle said that they were filthy homeless beggars who died on the streets from drug overdoses."

 

The kitchen was silent for a minute before the giant man exploded, "DRUG ADDICTS!? YEH TOLD ‘IM THEY WERE DRUG ADDICTS, DIED FROM AN OVERDOSE!?? WHY YEH WORTHLESS MUGGLES TELLIN’ HARRY THEY DIED OF FU...."

 

"Hagrid please," McGonagall said sharply, the man stop yelling and huffed glaring at Vernon. "Harry dear," McGonagall said sweetly "do you know who you are?"

 

"Well," Harry replied, "since the letter I got said Witchcraft and Wizardry I assume I'm a wizard right?" _Obviously_

 

McGonagall sighed and sat down, "Harry let me tell you about your parents and a man named Voldemort.”

 

* * *

 

Harry was angry, actually, angry is a very light way of putting what Harry had felt after McGonagall had told him the story of how his parents died. He was so angry, so furious  that he just wanted hit someone, namely this Dumbledore character, he had left Harry on the doorstep of relatives who hated his parents. Why the hell would he do that? Did he not realize that they would be nothing but cruel to him, did he think it would help him at all?

 

McGonagall had told him it was to 'help him grow up normally and not have to worry about his fame affecting his childhood' yeah fucking right, they probably just threw him here to get rid of him so they would not have to deal with an orphaned child.  

 

Usually, Harry was able to keep his emotions masked, showing emotions was weak and unnecessary, but he was so angry that it must have shown on his face. McGonagall assured him that it was okay to be upset, that Voldemort was a horrible evil wizard and some anger was to be expected. Harry didn't care about some dead murderer that he had apparently "killed" at the age of one. No, Harry was more upset about the fact that they had stuck him with these people who didn't tell him a thing about being magical. These people claimed that he had “saved” the whole wizarding world, yet they leave him with his relatives to rot.

 

* * *

 

Harry managed to calm down and put a mask of innocent wonder on his face when they took him to Diagon alley. It wasn't difficult, Diagon alley was an amazing place, he could practically feel the magic buzzing through the air, witches and wizards roamed around, some holding wands and some using magic for things like shopping or carrying their bags, It was almost overwhelming.

 

Harry was glad that his hair was long enough to cover the scar on his forehead, according to McGonagall almost every wizard in the whole of the wizarding world would know him by just that one scar. He acted like he was too shy and modest to deal with the _adoring fans_ that would undoubtedly bombard him, but really, he just didn't want to have to deal with all of the annoying, small minded people dumb enough become fans of a one year old, who probably didn't actually do anything to the big bad evil Dark Lord.

 

Clearly it had to have been his parents that had defeated him, it wouldn't make sense for a small baby to have the power to match someone that McGonagall referred to as 'the most feared wizard of our time'. How could people not see that, Harry had known about it all for less then a day and even he had figured out that one. 

 

They went to Gringotts, the Wizarding bank, first. Apparently Harry had  a portion of his parent’s money for his days at school, McGonagall then told him she was very late for a meeting and that Hagrid would take him to buy his school things.

 

Despite being stuck with the giant dumb oaf of a man Harry was actually enjoying himself. Getting his was had been particularly thrilling, the rush of magic flowing through him had been intoxicating. Though Harry did not trust the wand maker, Ollivander, he seemed to know too much, had a glint in his eye that made it seem like he knew everything about you, almost like he could read minds. 

 

The owl that Hagrid got for Harry was completely useless, who was he supposed to write letters to anyway, he didn’t have friends or family. Yet he accepted the gift with a shy smile and a thank you, though caring for an owl was sure to be a nuisance. 

 

Harry loved Flourish and Blotts. There were so many interesting books to choose from, so much knowledge to gain, he wanted to read everything about the world he was being thrust into, needed to read every story about how magic came to be and why people really thought a one year old could kill a man. He was there for nearly an hour before the giant dragged him out muttering about Harry being a ravenclaw, whatever that was.

 

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, that is until he went to get fitted for his first year robes at Madam Malkin’s. When he arrived there was a boy standing on a footstool in the back of the shop, he was pale and had hair so blonde it was almost white. It was not the boy that caught Harry’s attention though, he was immature, snooty, and had the arrogance of a child that always got his way, no, it was the man that had to be his father that had Harry looking twice in their direction.

 

The man was tall, thin, and had the same white-blonde hair as his son, he carried a black cane with a silver snake at the top of it. The man stood with an air of confidence like Harry had never seen before, he practically radiated power, Harry could feel it even from where he was standing at the other side of the shop. It was intoxicating and dark and Harry wanted nothing more than to be closer to that power. He was saved from making a fool of himself by Hagrid stumbling into the shop after him and causing both the boy and his father to look up and sneer simultaneously, which was actually quite a humorous sight. It seemed like the giants presence was offensive enough for them to finish up and leave, because they were gone within five minutes.

 

It was late by the time Harry was brought home, Hagrid had given Harry his ticket for the train on September first and told him to enjoy the rest of his summer. He knew he would, Hagrid had warned Harry about using his wand outside of school, but the Dursleys didn't have to know about that. Harry smiled as he walked into the silent house, he had a feeling that this would be the best month of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was the second chapter! Let me know what you thought, Kudos and Comments are always welcome!


	3. Platform 9 ¾

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally September 1st and on the way to Hogwarts Harry meets both Ron and Malfoy. They both leave very different first impressions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been months since i've uploaded and I'm really sorry.

It was finally September 1st, the past month had been amazing. Harry’s aunt and uncle had left him alone for the most part, and made Dudley stay away from him too. Harry no longer had to make breakfast for them and they let him move into Dudley’s second bedroom. Petunia even gave him cab money to get to the leaky cauldron the first time he went alone. All of this was because they were afraid of him, they knew he could do what they could not and Harry loved having power over them.

 

Getting into Diagon Alley alone had been way too easy. Harry had been watching when they went the first time and his memory was impeccable, a few simple taps with his wand and he was in. His small body structure was extremely helpful with remaining unnoticed in the busy street, he was smart enough to keep his scar covered and his eyes on the ground. No one even looked twice at him.

 

Having a fortune left to him was also rather convenient, he was able to exchange wizard currency for muggle which meant he no longer needed to get money from Petunia. Harry went to Diagon Alley at least once every week during his last month of summer.

 

Harry spent most of his time in Flourish and Blotts, he already learned so much about this whole other world. He read countless books about himself and they were all complete bullshit, claiming him to be an all powerful wizard ‘saviour of the wizarding world’ he was called. The books went on and on about how amazing he was, he only wondered what his “fans” would think about him having grown up abused and forgotten about.

 

Dumbledore was a fascinating wizard to read about, stories about how great and powerful he was, how kind and generous. Almost every book Harry could get his hands on talked about his famous defeat of one of the worst dark wizards of all time, Gellert Grindelwald. Harry was looking forward to meeting Dumbledore, he wanted to see what it would be like to be in the presence of someone with that much power.

 

He was also looking forward to asking Dumbledore why he was left with muggles, and to try and convince him to let him stay anywhere else. Hell, Harry could probably even live on his own, he had been taking care of himself ever since he could walk anyway.

 

Harry was still pretty mad about the fact that Dumbledore would even be dumb enough to leave him there in the first place, but it seemed like the man was the one in charge of where he lived so Harry would at least give it a try.

 

The books he read about Hogwarts were by far his favourite, he felt actual excitement for the first time in his life, he soaked up all the information he could about the magical castle.

 

He knew what Hagrid had been talking about now when he said Harry would be a ravenclaw, it was one of the four houses of Hogwarts, he knew why Hagrid would think that, he did love to soak up all of the new information that he could.

 

Harry wasn’t sure what house he would want to be in, the books he read about himself said he would for sure be in Gryffindor like his parents. They imagined he would be an amazing wizard from the start, some of them theorized that he would skip years at school, graduate early, and go straight into fighting dark wizards.

 

Harry thought that Ravenclaw would be a good house to be in, he was smart enough for it, and he felt it would be a better fit than Gryffindor. The house that Harry felt most connected with was Slytherin though, he knew that people associated it with evil and darkness, but power is what Harry really craved.

 

Harry sighed as he walked into kings cross station, no use worrying about it, he had no choice in the decision as a hat would be making it for him, odd that they would leave that to a hat.

 

* * *

 

 

Platform 9 ¾ how the hell was he supposed to find that, that damn oaf could have told him where the hell the platform was, Harry grumbled to himself as he stood between platforms 9 and 10, _well I guess I’ll just wait for someone to come along who goes to hogwarts_ Harry thought, and decided to stand off to the side and watch to see if someone came along.

 

He didn't have to wait very long, after a few minutes a group of loud redheads came around the corner, they were dressed in clothes that practically screamed wizard, Harry was surprised that they would actually dare to go out in public looking like that, he thought that wizards were supposed to be staying hidden from muggles.

 

"Come now Ronald, you first,” the older woman, probably the mother, said gesturing towards the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. The boy ran right for the barrier and passed through. Harry waited in the crowd, staying hidden while the rest of the many kids ran through the barrier. It was amazing that none of the muggles even spared a glance at this group of people running through a wall. After all the boys had gone the lady looked around, as if looking for someone, after a few minutes of looking around she said something to the only girl and they both walked through.  

 

Harry waited a bit before taking a deep breath and following, he almost gasped out loud as he looked at the magnificent red train sitting on the tracks in front of him. He had never seen anything like it before.

 

Harry looked around at the huge crowd of people, grimacing as he heard some of them muttering about the fact the the 'Saviour of the Wizarding World' Harry Potter was supposed to be coming to Hogwarts today. He was, once again, glad that he had grown his hair long enough to cover the blasted scar on his forehead, he really had no need to be known as 'the boy who lived' yet.  

 

After boarding, Harry looked around the train until he found himself an empty compartment, he pulled out _Hogwarts: A History_ and began to read, wanting to refresh his memory on the magical castle. He really hoped no one would come and bother him, he found people his age to be boring and ignorant.

 

Unfortunately luck was never on his side, within 10 minutes of being in the compartment, the same red head boy he had seen with his family before slid open the door.  

 

"Hey mate, everywhere else was full, do you mind if I sit here with you" the boy asked. Harry shrugged maybe he could make a useful ally, besides it would probably seem odd to want to sit alone anyway.

 

"Name's Ron" the boy said as he sat down, "what's yours?”

 

"Harry" he replied with a sigh, he knew exactly what was about the happen, "really? what's your last name?" the boy asked excitedly, leaning forward in his seat. "Potter" Harry replied glancing up from his book at Ron. "Bloody hell, it is true, Harry potter is actually here!"  

 

"Yeah" Harry said, looking back down at his book “I guess I am."

 

"Is it true?" Ron asked hesitantly, "ya know about the..." he gestured vaguely to his own forehead.

 

"Yes" Harry said, beginning to get annoyed.

 

"Can I see it?" Ron asked.

 

"No" Harry said as he stood up, "and frankly i'm not some painting to gawk at, I am a human being and I don't appreciate being drooled over, good day" and with that he turned and left the compartment, going off to look for somewhere else to sit.  

 

Harry found an empty place to sit relatively fast, which didn’t surprise him considering a majority of the children still needed to board. The fact that Ron had been lying to him about there being nowhere to sit was also unsurprising. Harry sighed and opened his book again, people would probably know what he looked like by the end of the train ride.

 

* * *

 

 

Ten minutes after the train started to move someone knocked at the compartment door. Harry looked up to see a familiar looking boy with blonde hair and expensive looking robes. "Potter?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

 

"Yes" Harry said, looked like the redhead had blabbed already, "and you are?"

 

"Malfoy" the blonde replied sticking out his hand, "Draco Malfoy.”

 

Harry returned the handshake cautiously and gestured for Draco to sit down.  

 

It was the same blonde boy that Harry had seen at the robe shop in Diagon Alley, his father was the man that had that crazy amount of power that Harry had felt. He remembered reading the name Malfoy on a list of Voldemort’s old supporters, if one of Voldemort’s supporters had been that powerful Harry could only imagine how powerful the man himself had to have been.

 

Harry stared at the boy sitting across from him with a frown on his face, if the Malfoy’s were supporters of the wizard whom Harry had “killed” they should hate him, not try to befriend him.

 

“I heard a nasty rumour about where you’ve been since you defeated the Dark Lord.” Malfoy said, breaking the silence that had formed between them.

 

Harry raised an eyebrow, “yeah?”

 

Malfoy nodded and smirked, “Heard that you were living with a bunch of muggles, that you were no better than a mudblood when it comes to knowledge of the Wizarding world.”

 

Harry narrowed his eyes and picked up his book, “People should know better than to listen to rumours.” He had no idea how people had figured it out. Hagrid probably, the half giant seemed to have issues keeping his mouth shut.  

 

“So it’s not true then?” Malfoy asked in surprise, it seemed his source was one he deemed reliable.

 

“No, it’s true.” Harry said nonchalantly, not looking up from his book.

 

Malfoy huffed and leaned back into his seat. “I guess since you don’t know anything about Wizards then you don’t know that your parents were muggle loving freaks.”

 

Harry hummed in response, turning to the next page in his book.

 

Malfoy crossed his arms and glared, “I bet you were left with those muggles because they could tell how weak you were and didn’t want to bother trying to raise you.”

 

Harry sighed and put his book down, it looked like Malfoy wasn’t going to let this go. “How did your father feel when he heard the news that an infant had killed the wizard he worshiped? Did he cry? Or maybe he was tired of being a slave to a mortal man with no extraordinary powers at all. I know I would be ashamed if the person I was praising was no more than a man, it’s a wonder he came back out into the world at all.”

 

Malfoy’s eyebrows shot up, it was clear he had not been expecting a response like that. Harry smiled pleasantly and picked up his book, it took a few minutes for Malfoy to get over his shock.

 

“Done your research then?” Malfoy asked, seeming impressed.

 

“I may not have been raised in this world, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t belong.” Harry glanced at Malfoy, “You can forget about whatever bullshit you’ve read in books, I am no saviour, anyone who actually thinks an infant could kill someone like Voldemort is an idiot.”

 

“You don’t think you killed him?” Malfoy asked.

 

Harry rolled his eyes, “I think that my parents were probably smart enough to know that Voldemort was after them, I think they must have done something to protect their only son and I think it's damn near impossible that I even survived. From what I’ve read, Voldemort had power second to none but Dumbledore, the fact that people actually think I did something as a 1 year old is ridiculous."

 

Malfoy smirked, “I think you and I are going to be great friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me on this one, I swear I'll try to upload a little more regularly. please leave a kudo if you like this fic, comments are always welcome as well!


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